Finding FanFiction
by SlightlyStrangeGirl
Summary: John and Sherlock come across something sinister... OneShot :)


**Hey guys! So this is just a silly one-shot that came to mind at some point in my extraordinarily weird, obbsessive ideas, so please read, review and stuffffff :) Oh, and all I own is a laptop and me sad little cabbage brain, I don't own Sherlock :(**

Finding FanFiction

"Sherlock..."

"Yes."

"Why are there bloody toenails in the fridge!?"

"An experiment."

"Well... Couldn't you at least move them out of the butter?"

"No."

"Why the hell not!?"

"Because that's part of the experiment."

I groaned. Grabbing my dry toast, I dragged myself to the living room. Sherlock was, as usual, being the obnoxious git he always was, and sat slouched over the worn sofa with his arms spread like wings, and his head of dark curls thrown back dramatically. I rolled my eyes.

Since three in the morning, the caffeine run detective had practically been ripping the flat apart looking for cigarettes, and interrogating poor Mrs Hudson. Thankfully, he appeared to have finally relaxed slightly, either out of exhaustion of his temper tantrum or simple boredom. I opened my laptop to my blog and drummed on the keys absent mindedly. Still no cases. We were getting desperate...

I clicked on the comments section and glanced through some of them. Most were just excited fans, but Lestrade had left one so I opened it to reply.

_Video Sherlock for me ;)_

At the bottom was a link to tumblr. I frowned glancing over the crazy detective. Why would I video him?

Then I opened the link.

And,

Oh.

My.

God.

Now, I have seen way too many terrible things in my life, but, I swear, until the day I die, I will not forget the picture that I was met with. On the screen was me and Sherlock, in a disturbingly accurate drawing of us, arms thrown around each other, legs tangled, kissing.

Actually.

Kissing.

My mouth fell open.

Sherlock, who still had his arms splayed out and his head thrown back, hadn't noticed my jaw drop to the floor, and continued feeling sorry for himself. I grinned. Fumbling around with my mobile in my pocket, I managed to hit the camera button. This could be fun...

"Uhm... Sherlock...?" I chocked out, hiding my grin.

"Hm?" His head snapped up.

"You might want to see this..." He bounced up and stalked over, thinking it was something interesting. I turned the laptop his way.

At first, there was nothing. I was worried he'd seen it before because what fun would that be? But then his eyes widened,

his jaw fell

and the only way to describe his expression, is shock-horror.

I tried not to giggle.

"Um... Sherlock?" I said, waving a hand in front of him, expecting some sort of response. He stayed frozen. Laughter bubbled up inside me. This was the most fun I'd had in weeks!

"Sherlock?" I tried again. His gaze didn't move from the picture he was gawking at. The only sign he was still alive, was the occasional blinking.

I watched.

And waited.

And waited.

And nearly died from internal hysterics.

After at least fifteen seconds, he finally spoke.

"Is it... Moriarty...?" He whispered. At this point I was biting my lower lip so hard trying to hold back uncontrollable fits of giggles that I could taste blood. Looking back away from him I hid my grin, and tried to ignore the tears that were threatening in my eyes. We sat in silence for a few seconds with my stomach aching from holding down laughter and my shoulders nearly shaking until I finally couldn't take it. I fell into ridiculous hysterics.

"Is... It... Moriarty!?" I managed between breaths, clutching my sides. He switched his glare from the screen to me.

"Yes. Who else would do something like this?" He snapped. I laughed harder, the laptop wobbling on my lap dangerously. He growled and snatched the laptop away, balancing it on one hand and scanning through the fanart. As I rolled around in hysterics I watched his face grow more and more disgusted, his top lip pulled back in disbelief and his eyebrows pulled together so tightly, they nearly met in the middle. Trying to hold my hand steady, I pulled my recording phone out and pointed it at him when he wasn't looking then shoved it back in my pocket.

"WHAT IS THIS!?" He yelled, returning to me in one angry step and dropping the computer on the floor. I looked at the screen. And tears fell from my eyes. On the screen was Sherlock looking very annoyed wearing a stupid fluffy pink hat with me dressed as a woman in pink wearing a deerstalker hat clutching onto his arm like an old woman. I laughed even harder.

Crouching down next to me, he flipped through more very artistically done drawings of the two of us together, most of them involving Sherlock wearing something horrifc and with a cheesy grin plastered on my face. As we watched the images get more and more explicit, Sherlock's face went pale,

then red,

then pale again,

then purple.

My face stayed a dark crimson as I suffocated from laughter.

"Who would do this...?" He whispered again. I wiped tears away.

"It's fanart Sherlock." I said, a bit calmer. Until I saw the next one with Sherlock in a dress.

Then I cracked up again.

"It's... unforgivable." He said. I giggled harder. He glared at me.

"I fail to see what you find so hilarious about this situation." He snapped.

"They're so realistic!" I exclaimed, stabbing a finger at the sketch of him and I playing a video game, with a 'seriously-not-pleased' look on his face as he growled at the controller.

"Nonsense." He said. I noticed the name in the far corner. Johnlock.

"Aw they've even given us a name!" I laughed, pointing at the text in the corner. Sherlock's frown intensified. As did my laughter. Grabbing the mouse off him, I pressed on the link.

As it turned out, we were pretty popular! There were thousands of results coming up when we typed it into the searchbar.

"I wasn't aware I was this popular..." Sherlock murmured I rolled my eyes. Obviously it was only him who was popular. I was slightly put off though. Of the pictures we saw, I mostly seemed to be playing the part of the woman. Who got _that_ idea.?

"Huh? They've written stories about us too!" I exclaimed, opening another blue link on the screen. Sherlock sighed irritably.

"Anderson has an IQ higher than these fools." He muttered as I scanned through summaries of storylines. A lot of them were complete nonsense. All of them involved me falling in love with Sherlock Holmes. God help me...

I opened one with a terrifyingly well edited cover picture of Sherlock and me called: 'Experiments in us.' Sherlock sat next to me, glaring hard at the computer screen. The first few sentences were just authors note, then the story started. Considering the ridiculous subject of the story, I found that the writer was actually quite talented and, unbelievably, kind of got into it. Well, until Sherlock roared with laughter next to me. I frowned looking at him.

"What's so funny?"

"You haven't got there yet." He chocked out between giggles. I read further down the page, then found what he was finding so amusing.

… _Sherlock had to save him. What choice did he have? John was his only friend, his best friend, his... Soul mate? Maybe. Grabbing his coat, he prepared the hell that awaited him as he set off to save his damsel in distress..._

"DAMSEL IN DISTRESS!? WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY IMPLING!?" I yelled, standing upright, and letting the laptop fall to the floor with a crack. Sherlock couldn't get a hold on himself. He was now the one doubled over, and tears were threatening at the corners of his eyes. God I hate him.

"Shut up Sherlock." I snapped, taking the laptop and viscously searching for a silly one about him. There were lots of them. I eventually settled for a short novel called: 'He's a woman!?" I read the summary and giggled.

The entire story apparently hindered on the fact that Sherlock Holmes was secretly a woman, and he loved all things pink and fluffy! Deciding it was defiantly one of the most ridiculous things I'd ever heard, I started reading...

… _There wasn't much ordinary about the man Sherlock Holmes. He was a high-functioning sociopath who enjoyed experimenting on dead corpses, he enjoyed solving intricate murders and played violin at crazy hours in the morning. But this wasn't what made him so... unusual. What made him unusual, was the fact that he wasn't a man at all..." _My whole body shook with hysterics as I read the last sentence. Scanning through, I soon found that the rest of the Chapter was relatively uneventful, I skipped to Chapter 4:

… "_Erm... Sherlock... Why is there a pink coat in your wardrobe...?" John asked._

"_N-No reason!" Sherlock half yelled, jumping in front of him and slamming the door shut. John frowned at his boyfriend..._

BOYFRIEND!? Christ... Poor John...

_...He'd been acting pretty odd the last few weeks... _

Probably menstruating! Then again, he's always been a grumpy git.

… _That was when John found the lacy purple-blue bra stuffed into his right hand pocket..._

It'd match his scarf! I thought with a grin.

… "_YOU SEE MRS HUDSON!? I'M STRAIGHT!"John exclaimed... _

I screeched with laughter again. Of all the things in the world I could have said about Sherlock being a woman, of course I would've picked that one. I turned the screen to the smirking Sherlock, who's face gradually drooped into a frown as he read further. I giggled.

"Something you're not telling me Sherlock?" I say grinning. He scowls.

"Shut up John." He said, getting up and pulling down the hem of his jacket like the whole world was below him, which, in his eyes, it probably was and stalking over to the violin by the window.

"These people are ridiculous. Can't they think of something more creative to do than fantasising about me." He grumbled. I rolled my eyes again, getting out my recording mobile and pointing it at his overly-large head, just catching his: 'I am so not amused' face before quickly putting it back into my pocket. He swivelled around.

Uh oh...

"What was that?" His eyes narrowed.

"What? Nothing." I said too quickly, internally face-palming. He frowned and stepped back over.

"What?" He snapped again.

"Nothing." I replied, frantically pressing buttons on my mobile hoping to hit Greg's number. Sherlock paled slightly. He knows.

I.

Am.

So.

Dead.

"Give me it." He said, extending his hand.

"No." I said.

"Give. Me. It."

"Nope."

"FINE." Grabbing my hand out of my pocket, he shoved his hand into my jacket desperately. I didn't bother fighting his off. There wasn't really much point.

_Please let it have worked.._

"Thankyou John." He said with a smirk. I held my breath.

And really prayed that it'd gotten through. That was when the phone rang.

Sherlock looked down at the buzzing object and his jaw dropped open slightly. I giggled as he answered it.

"So Sherlock, got any plans for tonight!?" Lestrade said.

"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM NOT GAY!"

**:D That was fun! Thankyou so so so much for reading, and pretty please let me know what you thought in reviews and stuff :) The fanfictions and fanarts ect in this story aren't based on any real life ones, I made them up. If they do resemble any, just know that they aren't meant to , it's just coincidence. Also my 'If you had nine months' in currently on hold. Sorry for you guys who were enjoying it :( Anyways, reviews please!**


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